


Stay Please

by Chosca



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, playfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 04:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2414993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chosca/pseuds/Chosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffy Nouis...that's all I got.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Please

Louis jabs a cold finger at Niall's exposed, pale tummy, resulting in not only a shriek, but a kick in the hip. The pillow beneath Niall's head slides off the side of the bed as they wriggle and shift. The empty beer bottles rattle on the bedside table.

"Oi!"

"Don't touch me there," Niall complains, tugging his shirt down immediately. "You're freezin'."

"Flabby," Louis says, pretending to sound exasperated. Niall looks genuinely abashed. "That's what you get for going beddy-byes on a full stomach, Niall." 

Niall curls over, arms crossed over his belly. He wasn't usually an insecure person, but hearing that sort of thing from Louis would make anyone self-conscious. "I can't help eating at night, you do it too." He leans forward, avoiding his band mate's gaze. He should be used to this by now. Really. He should know what's coming next, but being drunk throws off his judgement.

"Gotcha!"

Louis manages to pull his legs out from under Niall's body and pin him in the same movement, tearing the shirt's hem from his grip. Belly once again out for all to see, Niall gasps, kicking for dear life.

"Ah ah ah!" Louis tuts, wriggling forward and sitting flat on Niall's knees. Before his younger friend could escape, Louis ditches the snarky dialogue and goes in for the kill, blowing loud, wet raspberries into Niall's tummy.

"NooOOO!!" Niall cries, protests lost in his laughter. "Lou-..! No!"

 _Pfpfpftt!_ Louis doesn't hold up, pinning Niall's wrists to his chest to prevent a black eye. Louis learns from these sorts of things.

"Louis! I'm gonna kill y- !" Niall tries, breathless from all the flailing about. Mostly from the laughing, though. Louis beams, lighting up like a child on Christmas morning, as he lies down over his young Irish friend and nibbles him on the chin. He's got an iron grip for a small guy, not once letting up on Niall's wrists. Last time, Niall found his ticklish spots, and he wasn't the only one with a black eye.

"Look at you," Louis coos, purposely forcing Niall to turn a lovely shade of pink, "Little baby _boo_."

"Fuck off," Niall says, chuckling into his forearm and kneeing Louis successfully in the ass. "Don't call me that, you smelly sod."

"Smelly sod," Louis replies, eyebrows shooting up as he stuck out his bottom lip. He wasn't nearly as smashed as Niall; he's never been around anyone as fun drunk. Being more sober let Louis appreciate what Niall could come up with. So far he's been called a raw chicken, a crooked golfclub, a piece of old cheese.. "You have quite the mouth on you, did you forget you weren't in power?"

Niall barely has time to move before Louis drags his wet, warm tongue up his cheek. He wails in anguish, trying frantically to wipe the saliva off on Louis's clothed arm. As per usual, Louis cackles, doing a little victory wiggle on top of Niall. Lost in his celebration, however, he's loosened his grip on Niall's wrists, and quicker than he can say 'Oh shit!' Niall's flipped them both on to the floor. 

"Oof!" he huffs, knocking his head on the hard hotel carpet. Okay, that was new. "Bloody he- oi!"

Niall situates himself on top of Louis, jamming his fingers between Louis's neck and his jaw and wiggling his fingers like worms. Louis chokes and wheezes, but Niall knows he's trying not to laugh. After all, that's where he's most ticklish.

"-The fuck off me, Horan!"

Louis pokes him hard in the stomach, and Niall's forced to curl in on himself. It's not enough to stop him from attacking, though, and he bites Louis on the shoulder. Earns him a cry, a sharp tinkle of laughter, but mostly, a slap. He jerks his face away and lies there, breathing, on top of Louis. 

Louis starts to come down from his high, chest rising and falling slower...and slower. "Arsehole."

"Fuckface."

"Wanker."

"Have you forgotten who's in power?" Niall turns his head and shoots back, but it's a weak threat. Louis pokes his tongue out. Niall makes a stupid face. The eldest considers flipping them back over and tickling Niall, but he decides that the Irish lad was at a pretty unfair disadvantage. He'd leave it...for tonight.

"I think..." Louis breathes, "I might need to go."

"Me too."

Louis begins a sentence, but falters. "This is _your_ hotel room," he says softly. His fingers find the soft locks on Niall's head. Niall closes his eyes. 

"Stay please."

Louis doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't respond. Instead of talking, they lay there, sprawled out on the floor in a heap. Niall groans, opening his eye just a crack to watch Louis, who threads his fingers through the blondish brownish hair absentmindedly. What feels like hours to Niall, (and a couple minutes to Louis) Louis speaks.

"Give us a cuddle." he sighs, giving in. Fourth weekend in a row, he thinks, opening his arms. And counting.


End file.
